Who: Barbara Gordon and Bruce Wayne What: The beginning (middle?) of a plot When: Today Where: Batcave and elsewhere Status: R to be safe.
The punching bag had seen better days, Alfred was probably right. If she didn't ease up on it it was liable to break. The sand would spill out all over the cave floor, but it would make Babs feel better. If nothing else then the bag would reflect what she was feeling - frustration. This case was killing her.
Finally stepping back from the bag, Barbara unwrapped the tape from her hands - something that she'd been taught years earlier. You never went up agiant the bag with just your bare hands. She'd done that once, with bad consequences. It hurt and her skin had broken, and bled. It had left permenant marks on the bag in the gym at Police Headquarters. She put the towel she'd been using around her neck and shook her head, pushing her hair around her shoulder, having taken it down from its ponytail and leaned against the chair in front of the batcomputer. It still wasn't done with the facial recognition software. Now at its second hour, she sighed, pushing her hands up onto her hair. The case wasn't going well, four people dead in a three week period, the same MO. And now they had a lead. But that lead was taking too long. She'd been sleeping less than normal. Expecially since one of the victims had been the parent of her sister's friend.